


Courtesy Call

by pasiphile



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Blow Jobs, Dom!John, Dom/sub, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, sub!Lestrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-15 01:50:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1286713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pasiphile/pseuds/pasiphile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>for prompt: "Johnstrade. John marches into Greg's office and orders him to his knees. Greg sucks him off, and afterwards John leaves, promising to fuck Greg against a wall later."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Courtesy Call

The door banged open.

Greg didn’t even bother looking up. “Busy, piss off.”

“No, you’re not.”

Greg’s head snapped up. John. In his office, without Sherlock near, and that tone in his voice… “Er…”

John crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

“What, here?” Greg asked, a little panicked.

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“No, but even when you actually  _are_ joking you don’t look like you’re jok- yeah, fine.” He opened his door, feeling John’s eyes boring into his back. “Donovan? John and I need to discuss something in private. I’m not to be disturbed, under any circumstances, understand?”

Donovan gave him a curious look. If it had been anyone else she’d probably get suspicious, but this was John, meaning that she probably thought it was about Sherlock, and there were plenty of reasons why discussions about Sherlock should be kept private.

“Donovan?”

“Yeah, got it.”

“Right.” He closed the door again. John had already closed the blinds, casting his office full of strange shadows.

Greg put his hands in his pockets, butterflies in his stomach. “So?”

“Knees.”

“Okay.” He knelt down, nervousness going up a notch. God, but he loved this, the cold command in John’s voice, the uncertainty… Even the muted chatter from outside was a bit exciting.

John stepped close and stopped right in front of him. He zipped his trousers open.

Greg licked his lips.

“Well?” John said, impatiently.

“Right, right, just give me a second…” He wiped his hands on his trousers and took John’s thighs, pulling him a little closer. He closed his eyes.

John grabbed his neck and pushed Greg’s face close against his crotch. He opened his mouth and took John’s already half-hard cock in his mouth. John groaned – softly, thank god, he didn’t think his team would ignore sex noises coming from behind his closed door, even when under express instructions not to disturb him.

He swallowed around John’s cock and tried not to gag. He’d been quietly training this, stuffing two fingers in his mouth and carefully pressing down on his tongue, trying to suppress his gag reflex. He’d felt extremely ridiculous, but it was worth it, wasn’t it? He hated not being good at something.

And John definitely seemed to like it. The second time Greg took his cock down his throat his fingers twisted in Greg’s hair and he raised his other fist to his mouth, biting down to stay quiet.

Greg pulled back and sucked gently at the head of John’s cock. Teasing, maybe, and he’d probably get –

John pulled hard at his hair. “I’d hurry up if I were you,” he said, softly. “Or that lot will get worried and come look.”

And they’d see their boss on their knees, sucking off Sherlock Holmes’ best friend. Goodbye reputation.

It should  _bother_ him, shouldn’t it? Frighten him a bit? But all he could think of now was how much he was actually enjoying this.

He smirked up at John and went back to his cock, licking off the precome before going back to gently suckling at the head, teasing at the foreskin with his tongue…

John lost patience and took his head, fucking in and out of his mouth. Greg held John’s legs and tried to keep still, to give him what he wanted. He glanced up – John’s eyes were closed, the tendons in his neck standing out, lips thing. Any second now…

He came. Greg swallowed it down, ignoring the pain of John’s hands pulling at his hair. In fact, he liked it a bit, as long as he didn’t pull  _too_ hard.

John gently tugged at Greg’s hair, pulling him off. He stumbled back and ran a hand over his face. “Whoo,” he said, blowing out his cheeks. “That was…” and then he seemed to remember his role and his expression turned stern again. “Right,” he said, tucking himself away and zipping up his trousers. “Up.”

Greg got back up, wincing at the little twinge in his knee – not that young anymore, was he?

John noticed and again he lost the cold, distant expression. “Does it hurt?”

“Nah, just a bit, it’s fine.”

“Let someone take a look at that, will you?” John said, with a worried frown. “Could be something serious, you never know. Better safe than sorry, right?”

“Yeah,” Greg nodded, smiling despite himself. Only John would think to say something like that, less than a minute after someone sucked him off.

“Alright then.” John stretched lazily.

“So, you’re going, then?” Greg asked, shifting from foot to foot. Too much to hope for John to take care of Greg’s hard-on, probably.

“Yep.” He took Greg’s neck and pressed a quick kiss on his lips. “Also?” he added softly. “Don’t get rid of that.” He gave Greg’s crotch a squeeze. “’Cause I’m going to fuck you against the wall after your shift.” And he let go of Greg’s neck and marched out of the office.

Greg collapsed into his chair, pulling at his collar. Holy  _fuck_ , every single time, he should  _know_ not to underestimate John.

The door opened and Donovan stuck her head in. “Everything alright, boss? You look a bit…” She waved a hand.

Greg had never been more grateful for the protection of his desk. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Bloody Sherlock, eh?”

He blinked. “What?”

“Sherlock,” Donovan repeated, looking a little confused. “That’s… what you were talking about, wasn’t it?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, Sherlock, right. Yeah, nuisance, you know how it is.”

“Right,” she said, still looking dubious. “I’ll er…be here if you need me sure.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

She nodded and left.

Greg breathed out heavily. His hard-on was starting to go down a bit, but…

_I’m going to fuck you against the wall_

Bloody hell.

He sighed and started rearranging his folders.


End file.
